Today Linc and I got to present about Ethiopia at a local school. If you are joining me at this new blog and are unfamiliar with me or my family, we may seem like an odd couple to present about an African country. Us pale, white people. But our family photo is one of a family that was brought together through international adoption. Our oldest two children are homegrown, and our youngest two came into our family through adoption. They were born in Ethiopia. And so we have been blessed to be asked to present in different classes and schools about Ethiopia. Pulling items out that we store in a bin downstairs and gathering items together that we keep on display and in use throughout our home brought back a sense of longing to return to Ethiopia. It was 4 years ago in March that we were in Ethiopia. Some of the items packed in bags still smell like Ethiopia. Refilling the bererbe jar to pass around for the kids to smell the blend of spices makes me almost taste it. Each traditional outfit that our children have already outgrown makes me miss the way it felt to carry their small bodies. And the freshly roasted coffee beans make me know that after school, we will make buna in our jebana and share about how the presentations went, and just possibly dream a bit more about when to return.
Our trip to Ethiopia was a whirlwind. It was an emotional roller-coaster. It was beyond hard or draining. And I must admit that I was pretty much frozen in many ways, subject to tears and utterly exhausted. The fact that it was about 24 hours of travel time, 8 time changes away and that we left in a panicked few days of buying tickets, re-packing and fighting for new tickets because of a Lufthansa strike... add this altogether and it made lack of sleep and jet lag. Meeting our kids only hours after landing and within 23 hours having full custody of two small, non English speaking kids who did not ask to come with us also didn't help our start.
And yet, there is something in me that longs, even aches to go back. I long to sit and listen to the beautiful language of Amharic (ok and I really wish I could speak it and communicate in it too). I long to explore the city and surrounding countrysides- going off the beaten trail and experience life in Ethiopia. I long to walk down the street and blend in, be one of them, enter into community with the Ethiopians. I long to go to our children's village. And I long to eat their food every day. I know these longings are unrealistic. I know I would never be able to blend in as I walk down the streets. I will always be thought of as a foreigner- even if we lived there. A forengi. But that is what I wish I could do. And these longings are what fuel our conversations about when we will return. And two older children who didn't get to go are curious about what it really would be like to leave all the comforts of home and go for a visit. And the two youngest children pray every night for some special people who still live in Ethiopia and they ask God to show us when it will be the best time to go back to visit their Ethiopia. And all this swirls in my thoughts as we prepare to tell others about Ethiopia.
 |
|
Before we adopted I thought of Ethiopia as a desert. It was sandy and windy and it was filled with long lines of people, dressed in rags. And these people were starving. These starving people were in lineups, holding small bows. They were waiting in line for their bowls to be filled with some kind of sticky substance that would be their meal of the day... or week. And when it became an option to adopt from Ethiopia, I looked up flights from our country to theirs and saw it was on the other side of the world and I couldn't think of one reason to get on a plane and fly all that way to a desert! But as I looked into the different options of countries to adopt from I began to learn that Ethiopia is quite green, there are mountains and jungles and many beautiful places. And the more I read the more I saw the beauty not only in the country but in the people. And as we officially embarked on the journey to our children who were born in Ethiopia, we began a journey of falling in love with not only our children but of their country. And now, seven years after we signed our first papers that declared we intended to adopt children from Ethiopia, we are together as a family of 6 in Canada. We experience Ethiopia in the conversations we have with Ethiopians that we meet, in the spicy blends of Ethiopian food we prepare at home, in the injera (Ethiopian bread) I continue to work at making, in the buna we roast and prepare the traditional way in a jebana, in the stories we retell, in the photos and videos we watch and the dreams of returning that we share.
 |
| |
As we shared just a little about this great country, I realize how much there is to learn yet. And it reminds me how important it is for our youngest two children to keep embracing Ethiopia. They still call Ethiopia "theirs." They want to eat their traditional food. They want to be noticed by other Ethiopians. And it challenges me to think of ways to connect them to their culture. And it reminds me there is so much about the early years they spent in Ethiopia that has shaped who our children are today. And I feel honored to be the mom to two amazing little people who were born in Ethiopia. And it has made that hunger to return grow.
No comments:
Post a Comment